


A Generous Heart and a Good-Natured Mortal

by Lynchy8



Series: Fun (and sad!) little drabbles [34]
Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cute, Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff, Gals being pals, Oneshot, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-14
Updated: 2017-01-14
Packaged: 2018-09-17 12:17:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9323234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lynchy8/pseuds/Lynchy8
Summary: “Prepare to be amazed!”Oh no.Feuilly groaned, shoving her phone back into her pocket, hoping that maybe the message might disappear by itself, and Bahorel wasn’t currently sitting in their flat trying to put an entire flat pack wardrobe together by herself…Bahorel and Feuilly get their first new place together, and Bahorel is determined to surprise her girlfriend while she's at work.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tournesol](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tournesol/gifts).



> Hello, yes I know I said I wasn't writing anymore. You can blame Claire for the tumblr prompt that led to this sweet little ficlet. She wanted me to write something with absolutely no sads... so here we are.
> 
> She gave me the line "prepare to be amazed" and this is what grew out of that. No warnings for anything because it's all fluff.

Monday’s alarm clock sounded way too soon for Feuilly’s liking. She reached out blindly to make the noise stop, in complete denial about it being time to get up for work. Just as she was about to throw back the duvet, Bahorel moved behind her, kissing her shoulder and wrapping an arm round her waist pulling her close. This was nice. Feuilly decided she could deal with Monday mornings if they were going to be like this.

On Saturday, they had moved into their new flat; their first place that was just theirs. A one bedroom apartment with Juliet Balcony (and Bahorel had already made an impression on the neighbours by calling up to her on bended knee from the carpark when she was meant to be shifting boxes from the van up the stairs). 

On Sunday they had tried to get stuck in to sorting some of their shit out, before it became blindingly obvious that they needed more storage, and a trip to Ikea had followed. Not that they’d had much time to get anything built.

Now it was the start of the working week, although Bahorel had managed to get the week off from work, lucky thing. Feuilly giggled in Bahorel’s arms as kisses were pressed to her neck, enjoying a few final moments in _their_ bedroom in _their_ flat. But eventually she wriggled free, because she was going to be late, and she didn’t even know where her overalls were at this point. 

“Blue suitcase, over on the right,” Bahorel yawned lazily from the bed. 

Finally dressed, Feuilly bent down to give Bahorel one last goodbye kiss, and left a final instruction.

“Do not,” she whispered, “attempt the flat pack without me.”

Bahorel snorted, dismissive. 

“I mean it,” Feuilly pressed in a warning tone. Bahorel pressed her hand to her heart, eyes all wide and innocent, and Feuilly was not fooled for a moment. With a fond sigh, she grabbed her bag and headed out the door.

Bahorel’s problem was that she didn’t read instructions. She had a terrible habit of just getting stuck in, guessing at which parts went where, and generally making a mess. Feuilly had far more of a “measure twice, cut once” approach to DIY, and she knew that the wardrobe would be a two human job, and probably the chests of drawers too. 

Hopefully Bahorel would heed her warning.

+

Any hope of that went right out the window with a single text message that Feuilly received during her lunch break. The house her company was currently renovating was two streets away from a nice café. She would usually have brought her own lunch from home, but the kitchen was still under a pile of boxes, so she decided to treat herself. 

Sighing with relief as she sat down for the first time in seven hours, her blood ran cold at the overtly cheerful tone of Bahorel’s message.

“Prepare to be amazed!”

Oh no. 

Feuilly groaned, shoving her phone back into her pocket, hoping that maybe the message might disappear by itself, and Bahorel wasn’t currently sitting in their flat trying to put an entire flat pack wardrobe together by herself…

She stewed all afternoon, her workmates sensing her mood and leaving her well alone. She tried to concentrate on the task at home, to lose herself in painting – normally so therapeutic – but not quite managing. As for everyone else, they all knew how important this move had been to Feuilly, what it meant to her to have her own place with her girlfriend and what a step for her personally it had been. No one was insensitive enough to crack a naff joke about “trouble in paradise already” because they all liked their organs where they currently were.

Finally, Feuilly knocked off at 5:30pm as usual, nodding at her workmates as she stalked towards the bus stop, shoulders hunched as she wondered what the hell kind of chaos she was going home to. With dread, she checked her phone, but there were no further messages from Bahorel, just a couple of texts from their friends congratulating them on the move and wishing them well.

As she got off the bus, she decided that whatever it was, it wasn’t that big a deal. It was probably well-intentioned; heaven knows Bahorel had the biggest heart of anyone Feuilly knew. It was only furniture. And hey, maybe she had managed a decent job of it. But all the same, Feuilly wished that her girlfriend had, just this once, listened to her. It sort of felt like it wasn’t really about the wardrobe, but maybe bigger than that.

It was still a novelty to enter the complex and go up the stairs to their flat, still a thrill to approach the front door, and to find the key on her keyring that gave her entrance to their front door. She took a deep breath; this was no big deal. If she said it enough she might actually believe it.

Oh.

Oh _wow_.

Feuilly was stunned into silence as she stood on the threshold of her new home. 

Yeah, ok. Bahorel had amazed her. 

The living room was bathed in a soft glow from strings of fairy lights threaded across the ceiling and along the walls. The floor space, which only this morning had been wall-to-wall boxes, was now clear, with their rainbow flannel rug that Feuilly had made rolled out in front of their sofa. In the middle of the room, a table had been set up with table cloth and two chairs, bedecked with a candle and inviting bottle of wine. 

Bahorel was wearing her pinstripe jeans, the ones she had been wearing the night they met, and the floral waistcoat Prouvaire had embroidered two Christmases before. She was biting her lip nervously, waiting for Feuilly’s reaction.

“Surprise?”

Feuilly dropped her bag at her feet and threw her arms around her wonderful, brilliant girlfriend, almost sobbing into her neck.

“Hey,” Bahorel soothed, holding her tight, and Feuilly melted into her arms. “You ok?”

Feuilly could only nod. It was lovely; she peeped out from the safe haven of Bahorel’s arms, spying the photos of their friends lining the mantelpiece.

“I thought we could do with one nice room to relax in,” Bahorel murmured, pressing kisses to Feuilly’s hair. “And then I thought, hey, why not have a nice date night in our new home?” She laughed nervously, unsettled by the crying woman in her arms. “Is it ok?”

Feuilly leaned up on tiptoes to kiss her girlfriend, to leave her in no doubt that it was very much ok.

“It’s perfect.”

Bahorel uncorked the wine and poured them both a generous glass, and then they set about perusing the menus of local take out places, as the kitchen cupboards were still devoid of food. 

Feuilly went to change out of her overalls, settling for PJs because she didn’t have the energy to go rooting through the cases for anything else. They made a funny pair, sipping wine as they waited for dinner, Bahorel in her pinstripes and Feuilly in her comic book shorts in the dim glow of the fairylights.

“I love you,” Feuilly watched as Bahorel’s face blossomed into a bright, beaming smile. “And, I must confess, I thought you’d tried to build the wardrobe.” Bahorel chuckled, taking another sip of wine.

“Pffft! Are you kidding?! That’s a two human job. My incredibly smart girlfriend said so.”

**Author's Note:**

> The title is an amalgamation of Hugo's descriptions of Bahorel & Feuilly in the brick.
> 
> Many thanks to Claire for the prompt. This is unbeta'd but was originally posted on tumblr (there have been a few tweaks)  
> Hope you enjoyed :)


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